Apocalypse now

Nairobians are going absolutely gaga. Everyone you bump into on the streets is shopping so crazily you’d think the apocalypse was nigh.

Given the global economic crisis, you wonder where all the money is coming from.

The rule of thumb this side of the Tropic of Capricorn is simple: when Christmas comes around, put money in your purse somehow - and how! That probably explains the mayhem wrought by recently released convicts who wanted to catch a bit of the action. No one else here is allowing anything to spoil the fun - and spoils were what the convicts were after in the serial muggings they merrily embarked upon.

Most people travel to their rural areas during the festive season, so Nairobi - dubbed the City in the Sun - gradually comes to resemble a ghost town. But there are some who linger here to offer “essential services”. I’m not talking merely about cops and medical personnel: the ladies of the twilight are out in full force to offer creature comforts for those forlorn souls whom economic reasons have left stranded in the city.

As for those who make a beeline for the rural areas, they are not tucking into turkeys, thank you! They feast on chickens and goats slaughtered with so much zest that the festive season is massacre time. These two endangered species have to be washed down with brews both licit and otherwise, so those who make a living concocting traditional and modern hooch laugh all the way to the bank.

On that gravy train are also the bazaar kingpins, who gleefully offload all their dead stock on hapless shoppers. Popular items include heavy blankets for the forgotten grannies and granddads in the rural areas who are lucky if they set eyes on their progeny at any other time of the year.

Not that the old folk have any reason to complain: the temporary urban-rural migrants come with goodies that make incense and myrrh sound like kids’ play. Among the must-haves are kilos of wheat flour, sacks of rice, tins of jam (preferably red plum) and huge loaves of bread. Add lots of dentine-ravaging sweets and biscuits to spoil the little uns to death - leaving Nairobi dentists rubbing their palms as they await January windfalls when their practices will be inundated with miserable kids yelling themselves silly.

The roads are the setting for serious mayhem as public transport operators also go for the big kill, careening at breakneck speeds. The resulting accidents are like scenes from hell, but the mantra of the daredevils of the roads has remained the same for years: “It’s either home or heaven!”

Other victims of that kind of fatalism are those fellows with a penchant for self-immolation. They are the ones who siphon petrol (and even aviation fuel) from overturned tankers on crazily steep hills - and are promptly barbecued, a fate that doesn’t deter others looking for Christmas freebies.

If the Christmas season doesn’t kill you, you’ll survive mundane worries such as January’s rent and school fees. All that matters right now are the little plastic Christmas trees in the supermarkets. Decorated with fluffs of cotton wool, lit with multicoloured blinking bulbs and placed just inside the living room widow, they boisterously signal to passers-by that the party has begun in earnest.

As for the massive hangovers that hit everybody come Boxing Day, well, they’re a small price to pay for the merrymaking. And anyway you can always sleep your way into the New Year. The population explosion that comes nine months later is a minor little matter that should not be allowed to stop the carnival.

Ciugu Mwagiru is a freelance writer, editor and French-English translator based in Nairobi.